


slurring my lines (but nailing the meaning)

by wartimelovers



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Aftercare, Blow Jobs, Canon Asexual Character, Canon-Typical Martin Dislike from Jon (but there’s a twist!), Choking, Dirty Talk, Enthusiastic Consent, Hair-pulling, Humiliation, Kink Negotiation, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Nonbinary Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Safe Sane and Consensual, Season/Series 01, Trans Male Character, Trans Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, blink and you miss it type of jonmartim, the red neon sign makes an appearance as always!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:33:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26992990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wartimelovers/pseuds/wartimelovers
Summary: “It’s not as much about what you said, it’s how you said it,” Tim confesses. “That tone, the one you usually use in the office, so deep and low and harsh. The way you speak to Martin usually, that is—”“Don’t mention Martin when we’re in bed together, please,” Jon interrupts, way harsher than necessary, hoping Tim won’t notice how his cheeks turned bright red at the mention of their colleague’s name.or: Tim wants to be humiliated, just a little bit.
Relationships: Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker
Comments: 14
Kudos: 158





	slurring my lines (but nailing the meaning)

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone this is fully a first fully PWP i’ve written in ages. so if i’m a lil rusty forgive me 
> 
> to the point: jon’s asexuality is not explicitly (that is to say between characters, it is mentioned in the text itself) discussed in this but he is canonically asexual which i acknowledge. 
> 
> tim is a trans man in this fic and jon is nonbinary (again this isn’t explicitly talked about, this is just my hc for him). this fic is rather vague in terms of like. what goes where. so you could technically read it as cis tim if you tried really hard but i’m telling you he’s trans! word of god etc etc
> 
> it has been beta read by my wonderful friend moët and while i acknowledge one person’s experience and comfort levels aren’t the same as of the whole community, but i tried my best to write it respectfully and with as much first hand information as i can. please hit me with advice or constructive criticism if you want to, either on here or on tumblr (hotjonrights)
> 
> terms used for tim: cock, dick, hole, entrance, chest 
> 
> also if you’re confused by the red neon sign, please do catch up. 
> 
> set in s1, just after jon becomes the head archivist. in this one, jon and tim have been dating since research. 
> 
> ok enjoy now!

Tim is always pretty, Jon thinks. There isn’t a time where he isn’t his most extravagant and beautiful self. There isn’t a way Jon could begin to rank it, either. But there is something so incredibly wonderful about Tim on his knees, eyes closed, cheeks a beautiful shade of red, and mouth full of Jon’s cock. 

He is so eager about it, too, bobbing his head up and down, taking Jon’s entire length. Jon can feel his throat working as he does so. His hand comes up to his mouth in order to stifle a moan but he stops himself – he knows Tim likes to hear him, even if Jon himself finds these noises quite embarrassing. Lovely Tim, always eager to hear and see and feel how good he’s doing, how good he’s making Jon feel. So Jon lowers his hand, instead letting it find its way to Tim’s hair and pull ever so slightly. He allows himself the sounds of pleasure and Tim matches him with his own, sending pleasant vibrations down the length of his cock. 

It’s all almost too much. Even in the red light of that atrocious neon that Tim insisted should stay on, he looks utterly beautiful and sexy. Jon looks down, intending to savour every second of it, and in that moment exactly Tim decides to open his eyes and look up through his eyelashes. His eyes are always so trusting, so loving, whenever they do this, and Jon thinks he can hardly keep himself in check any longer. 

“Enough, enough,” he whispers, pulling gently at silky strands of dark hair. Tim produces a low groan of disappointment in his throat but pulls off obediently with an obscene, wet pop. 

Jon wants to chuckle. Say something about Tim’s raging oral fixation. But now’s not the time yet. So instead he explains, “You are quite a sight, love. I didn’t want to finish just yet.” 

“Oh yeah?” Tim asks, voice coarse. He immediately gets up from his position between Jon’s legs on the floor and scrambles up to join him on the bed. Jon wiggles back a little bit so there’s space for both of them and soon enough Tim is on his lap, his strong soft thighs bracketing Jon’s bony hips. He tries to grind down on him, get some of that much needed friction, but Jon stills his hips. 

“Yeah,” he says, tipping his head back to allow Tim better access where he’s kissing and sucking on his neck already. He’s eager and he is misbehaving a little more than Jon would normally allow but today he lets it slide. They have had a long week. Tim has earned a little disobedience. 

He wants to say more, stay on track with what he’s planned for the evening, when Tim sucks particularly hard on the spot behind his ear and grinds down on him, taking advantage of the brief pause in his usually task-focused attention. The friction provided by the material of Tim’s boxers on his cock clears his mind for a second and he just lets himself whine and revel in the sensation. 

Maybe that’s a little too much disobedience, he thinks, when he comes down from it. He lets his hand travel up from Tim’s plush arse up to the back of his head and he grabs the hair at his nape, tugging with more force than necessary to pull him off his neck. Tim groans and tries to push his hips forward, could probably overpower Jon’s hold on them without even trying particularly hard, but he knows better than to struggle. He knows the reward is worth not misbehaving. 

“Yeah,” Jon repeats, trying to keep his voice from quivering. Tim knows all his favourite spots, every nook of his body that makes him see stars and swear loudly. “Yes, I rather think I’d like to come inside of you today, if you don’t mind.” 

He knows the effect his words and tone of voice have on Tim. He laughs quietly at how fast Tim nods and how his eyes literally seem to shine brighter at the idea. It’s not often that he wants to have penetrative sex, usually prefers to get Tim off with his mouth and fingers (or a toy from their extensive collection) and doesn’t particularly care for any of that for himself, but today, as it sometimes happens, he  _ wants _ . 

“How- How do you want me, then?” Tim chokes out. 

“On your back for now, please, love,” Jon instructs and Tim scrambles to comply. Soon enough he’s lying in the middle of the bed, propped on way too many pillows. Jon reaches under the bed to retrieve a bottle of lube and a clean towel from their box and crawls onto the bed to join him. 

The awful neon sign enters his line of sight. He doesn’t hate it, no, chase your bliss and all that, and he loves Tim way too much to seriously dislike anything he does or owns or wears but Tim’s reactions when he teases him about it are completely worth keeping up the act. For now he scrunches up his nose and rolls his eyes as he sets the supplies next to them, making sure Tim notices, but doesn’t say anything. Not yet. 

Instead he leans down over Tim’s exposed body and kisses him soundly. Tim leans up into the kiss immediately, tongue tracing Jon’s bottom lip, nibbling at it, asking permission. Jon opens his mouth with a sigh as Tim pulls him closer, forcing him so sit on his lap in turn. Tim’s a wonderful kisser, passionate and just a touch insatiable, always chasing something more, leaning in, keeping Jon close for longer than can be comfortable at times. He needs and takes and isn’t afraid to ask for it. And Jon loves giving it to him, all of it. 

But he especially enjoys kissing. Which is why he tends to get a bit lost in it and Tim always takes advantage. Jon is brought back to reality by a sharp tug at his long hair, letting out a surprised, drawn out moan Tim readily swallows. Tim’s other hand travels down his back to cup his arse, pressing him closer, creating friction. 

Jon pulls back. “You’re on thin ice already, Mr Stoker,” he says, voice deeper and rougher than usual. He’s so focused on peppering little kisses, starting from the corner of Tim’s mouth, down to his chin and the column of his throat, that Tim’s reaction to his words completely eludes him. 

“Do you still want to come tonight?” he continues, and feels more than sees Tim nodding fervently. “Then  _ please  _ behave.”

He looks up briefly, one eyebrow slightly raised, making sure Tim understands he means it, and sees him nod again, mouth slightly agape and eyes glassy. He looks like he wants to say something but Jon doesn’t really give him a chance, leaning down and taking one of his nipples into his mouth while he massages the other with his hand. Tim arches into it, whatever thought he was trying to articulate surely forgotten. Jon kisses all around his chest, then, sucking and scraping his teeth at sensitive skin, leaving little bruises behind. He can’t stop himself from grabbing handfuls of Tim’s plump, soft chest, pulling back a little to admire how the flesh gives way to his fingers. 

By this point, Tim is breathing quickly and heavily and Jon hasn’t even gotten into his pants yet. He kisses down his soft stomach, but it’s more messy, more urgent – he has been waiting, too, after all. 

“You’re so eager for it, aren’t you?” he asks as he helps Tim wiggle out of his pants. “Want my cock inside of you that badly, huh?” 

“Y-yeah. Please,” Tim all but whines. His own cock is swollen, standing out from its hood. 

Jon leans down as if to take it fully into his mouth but stops at the very last moment, instead just exhaling softly over it. Tim writhes in place but doesn’t try to move his hips up. He made a promise to be good and he knows well by now that Jon expects him to keep it. 

Instead, Jon pops the cap of the bottle and squeezes a little of the clear liquid on his fingers. He teases Tim’s hole a little, pressing at it but not enough to go in, spreading the slick around. 

“Okay?” he asks. Tim nods again, to which Jon lets out a little disappointed noise. “Use your words, please, love.” 

“Yes, yes, more than okay, plea—” He doesn’t get to finish, cut off by a moan when Jon presses two fingers into him with ease. He doesn’t waste time, crooking them upwards and spreading them, stretching Tim rough and quick. He leans down, gives a few quick licks to his cock, not even taking it fully in his mouth, just lapping at it.

It takes them both by surprise when Tim comes on his hand and tongue without warning. He reacts quickly, without really thinking about it and leans down to take his dick into his mouth. He sucks and licks at it through the aftershocks, his hand still working in and out of Tim’s hole, teasing a third finger. Finally, Tim’s moans turn into whines of overstimulation and he pushes at Jon’s head, urging him to pull off of his oversensitive cock. 

Jon complies, withdrawing his fingers as well. He sits back and wipes his hand on the towel. Before he can do the same to his chin, Tim grabs him by the shoulders and pulls him down in a fervent kiss. It’s quickly over, as Tim is still shaking and gasping for air, but he keeps Jon close, holds him down against his chest. Jon loves it, revels in how much Tim needs him and wants him close, so he lets it all slide. He noses at the space where Tim’s neck meets his shoulder and kisses him there gently as they both catch their breath. 

“So that was quick,” he teases against his hot skin. Tim groans deep in his throat. 

“I was already so turned on when you let me suck you off,” he says quickly. “I could probably come just from that if you’d let me go at it for a while longer, if I’m being honest. But then you said, uh, you…” 

“Yeah, love?” 

“It’s not as much about what you said, it’s how you said it,” Tim confesses. “That tone, the one you usually use in the office, so deep and low and harsh. The way you speak to Martin usually, that is—”

“Don’t mention Martin when we’re in bed together, please,” Jon interrupts, way harsher than necessary, hoping Tim won’t notice how his cheeks turned bright red at the mention of their colleague’s name. 

“Oh, there it is! Well, yeah, anyway,  _ that _ tone. And I just thought about… I just imagined— Well, what if you talked like that to me, now, like you talk to M— to him. And then I—” He gestures about widely, lets his hand fall down to the mattress with a flop. His cheeks are still pink with arousal and embarrassment and it makes Jon giggle. 

“Interesting,” Jon says. He is curled up by Tim’s side now, tracing patterns on his skin, head resting on his chest, mesmerised by the slow rhythm of Tim’s breathing. “Is there anything in particular you’d like me to say?”

“Just talk down to me, I guess? Make me feel ashamed with how bad I am doing. Like you do to him.”

“That is hardly the same situation—”

“But you know what I mean, right?” Tim asks, hopeful. “I mean, as long as you’re okay with it.” 

Jon places a soft kiss at the centre of his chest and pushes himself upwards to match it with one on his lips. He feels Tim smile into it. They kiss softly like this for a while, nothing but tender, with Tim’s hands roaming the expanse of Jon’s back. 

“Of course,” Jon says when they part. “Anything for you, love. Are you still okay for one more, then?” 

“Yes, please.”

“On your knees, then, please,” Jon instructs, lifting himself first and moving to the centre of the bed. Tim follows quickly, letting Jon manoeuvre his body however he wants it. He stifles a moan when Jon moves his hands behind his back and fetches a scarf to tie them together. Jon knows well he likes to feel at his mercy even though he is bigger and far stronger than he is. 

Jon settles behind him, one hand wrapped around him to help him keep his balance, the other slipping between his thighs and teasing at his entrance, dipping in just ever so slightly. 

“Still so open for me,” he says, more to himself than to Tim, not expecting any answers. “Do you need me to finger you again?”

“No, I— I’m good,” Tim whimpers. Jon slips one finger in anyway, moving it in and out at a leisurely pace. “Want you to, ah— Want you to-o stretch me out with your cock. Please.”

“Are you sure?” Jon asks, and his voice is lower, more formal. It’s not exactly how he’d speak to Martin – there’s still far too much tenderness in it, but it’s enough for Tim. Jon feels him shift his hips back against him and clench around his finger. “Or is it just that you’d come embarrassingly quick again? After I’ve only barely touched you?”

“Jon,” Tim whines, stretching out the vowel. 

“Remember the safe word, yeah?” Jon whispers into his ear, then, and Tim whispers an affirmation back quickly. Then the softness is gone from Jon’s voice again. His hand travels up his chest and settles at his neck, not exactly squeezing, just sitting here, pushing him gently into Jon’s body. 

He lets his finger slip out and Tim whines at the loss. Jon mouths at his shoulder for a while – can’t really reach his neck due to the height difference in his position, but he makes it work – and then leans back ever so slightly to reach for the bottle of lube and spread some on his cock. He’s still hard, even with the short break they just had, what with the knowledge of how he turns Tim on. He gives himself a few quick strokes, letting the sighs of pleasure escape his lips. Tim writhes a little in his place, but there’s very little he can do in this position. Jon knows he thoroughly enjoys being bound and helpless like this.

He teases only a little, dragging the tip of his cock against Tim’s exposed entrance, making him beg for it. And so he does, high and whiny, now trying to move his hips slightly backwards, even if just to get the head in. 

Jon lets out a small  _ tsk _ . “Enough out of you for now, I think,” he says, moving his hand from Tim’s neck to his mouth, tapping his fingers against his lips. Tim opens up and swallows them down eagerly. Jon smiles into the warm, soft skin of his back and places a kiss there, adding a little teeth, and then pushes in. 

It’s just barely an inch or two, and then he stops. Tim is so tight and he moans around his fingers. Jon likes to pretend that he stops like that in order to give Tim time to adjust to his girth, but the truth is he likes how desperate Tim gets. He needs it all and he needs it rough, usually, and Jon revels in the ability to give it to him slowly, shallowly at first, withdrawing his cock at the first sign of Tim trying to push back and take more than he’s being offered. 

Right now he gives a few shallow thrusts, pulling out almost completely, letting his cock catch at the tight ring of muscles and push in slowly. Tim’s groans of frustration grow louder, even despite Jon’s fingers in his mouth. He’s still sucking eagerly, possibly hoping that his good behaviour will make Jon quit teasing. 

But Jon’s only getting started. He keeps at his slow, shallow pace, and then whispers, voice low and dripping with disdain like Tim has never heard it before, at least not directed at him. 

“You really want it so bad, huh? Acting like you’re nothing more but a greedy hole to fill. Maybe if you focused as much on follow up as you do on trying to get a cock in you, we’d have this archive organised by now.” 

It feels a little strange to say stuff like that to Tim. He usually prefers praise and Jon wouldn’t have ever imagined he’d get off on being told off, on being humiliated. But the evidence of his arousal is clear. He moans around Jon’s fingers and clenches down on his cock, making Jon forget the act for a while and release a whine of his own. He removes the fingers then, wanting to hear Tim properly. His hand moves back down to his throat and he squeezes, tighter than before, while he pushes deeper inside of Tim, picking up the pace. 

“Good?” he pants. 

“Yes, Jon, so good,” Tim breathes back. “I love you so much, I promise I’ll, ah, I’ll do better, f-for you—”

Jon is fucking him at a quicker pace now, almost all of his length buried in Tim, enveloped by the tight heat of him. He knows he should probably continue talking but he feels a bit at a loss with what Tim wants him to do. He moves his hands to Tim’s chest, cupping it, dragging his fingers over his nipples, letting his fingernails scratch where he’s most sensitive. Then he allows them to travel down Tim’s plush, soft stomach, avoiding where he’s most ticklish, just to let them stay around his navel, so close to his aching cock, but not touching, not yet, not even when Tim starts begging again.

Even with the support of Jon’s hands on his stomach, Tim’s thighs are starting to shake with the exertion of holding himself up like that, legs spread, chest arched forward as he tries to press himself back on Jon’s cock, hands bound behind his back. 

“Want me to untie your hands, love?” Jon whispers and Tim nods quickly. “Do you promise to be good for me, though? You won’t touch yourself, yes?” 

“I won’t, I won’t, I promise,” Tim pants and Jon reaches between their bodies to pull at the silk scarf. Soon enough Tim’s hands are free and he shifts forward, first moving on his hands and knees, but quickly lowering himself to push backwards, down to his elbows and face pressed against the sheets. Jon slows his pace down a little, which is met with a loud whine, and moves his hands to rest on Tim’s love handles, gripping hard enough to leave tiny bruises. 

“Jon, I’m so close, ple- please, talk more, ah, like—” Tim chokes out after a second. Jon can feel himself getting closer as well. He picks up the pace ever so slightly, aiming to hit the spot that he knows will make Tim scream with pleasure. 

“Come on, then, come on my cock,” he says, leaning over Tim’s back, reaching to take his cock between his fingers, teasing its length with the gentlest of touches. Not nearly enough, not just yet. 

“Yes, yes, Jon, please, I need you—Need you to talk to me like I, ah, like I’m him, please.” 

“You want me to pretend that you’re Martin?” Jon asks and hopes Tim didn’t notice how his cock twitched at the idea. 

“No, I mean, not really,” Tim chokes out. His voice is rough and shaky at this point. “Just imagine how annoyed you are when he turns in the report late or d-doesn’t follow, ah, follow up in time. Berate me, like you do to him, whatever it takes, please, ah, Jon…” 

Truth is, Jon doesn’t want to think about Martin when he’s so deep inside of Tim, fucking him quickly, chasing his own release. That will surely open a particularly nasty can of worms. He can feel Tim get even tighter as he utters his plea and thinks it won’t be long at this rate, anyway. If this gets him there quicker, then it will soon be over, and he can forget it ever happened. Talking about Martin in this situation, that is. 

So he tries to think about how he feels back at the office when Martin almost spills tea over very important documents but all that happens is that his mind conjures an image of him, tall and strong and smiling with guilt and embarrassment, avoiding his eyes. Jon groans at the thought and tries to push it into the furthest corner of his mind, instead focusing on getting Tim off. He puts his hand on his cock properly now, rolling it in between his skilled fingers, a little bit on the rougher side, just how Tim likes it. 

“You’re a disappointment,” he says then, voice icy and low. “Do you even begin to imagine how much trouble and time and worry you cost me on a daily basis? Honestly I’d like to say I don’t think about you at all, that you don’t matter to me, you awful little slut, but you’re always causing trouble, making me notice you and pay attention to you. Is that why you continue to be so horribly incompetent, huh? So I’ll have to spend time with you, clean up your messes? So I continue to notice you?” 

The stream of loud moans has been spilling quite steadily from Tim’s mouth ever since Jon started his tirade. He’s pushing back eagerly, meeting Jon’s quick and sharp thrusts in the middle. Jon knows he wants him to continue even if he doesn’t say it. 

“How you even managed to secure this job, this position, is beyond me,” he hisses. He’s so close now, painfully so, the image of Martin still vaguely in his mind, cheeks pink and glasses askew as he rubs at his face, trying to hide his blush. “Maybe I’ll just keep you here for my pleasure, then, since this is the only thing you seem to be good at providing, huh? What do you say, M-mmmhmmm- ah, Tim? Answer me.” 

He hopes Tim doesn’t notice how he almost misspoke. Believes him when he tries to mask it with a moan. Lucky for him, this is almost exactly the moment that tips Tim over the edge, making him come on his cock, twitching and spasming and shaking. He intends to pull out, stroke himself and come all over Tim’s beautiful back, but Tim pushes back, reaching out blindly to keep his hips in place, keep his cock buried deep inside of him. 

“No, no, go on,” he urges as Jon strokes him through it. “Fuck me, Jon, please, I want to feel you come inside of me, please, please—”

Jon lets himself moan at that, unable to formulate any coherent sentences at this point, and he picks up the pace again. Tim is still clenching on his cock, making him lose any last bits of self control as he slams into him with quick, sharp thrusts. It only takes a few more and then he’s coming as well, hips slamming against Tim’s one last time, twitching softly, riding his orgasm out with shallow half-thrusts. He is fairly certain that Tim comes again, what with the loud groan and how he clamps down on his cock, making it almost impossible to move even if he wanted. They both collapse on the bed, Jon still buried deep inside of him, and just stay like this for a few long moments. 

“Did you— Did you, well, again? With me?” Jon asks after a while, when he feels like he’s regained most of his brain functions. 

Tim nods slightly. “I don’t know,” he says. “Felt like I just never stopped, so you might count it as one or as two, I guess. Either way, it was nice.”

Jon pushes himself off Tim’s body and eases his softening cock out, admiring how come leaks a little from his stretched out hole. If he were a cruel man, he’d collect some and offer it up to Tim’s usually eager mouth, but the man has probably had three orgasms tonight, two of which were in a quick succession, so he leaves it be. Instead he helps Tim roll onto his back and leans down to kiss all over his face, his red hot cheeks, his chin, the corner of his mouth, and finally, his lips. It’s sweet and slow, calming. Brings Tim back slowly into their reality again. 

“Hi, my love,” he says softly when he feels like they’ve both calmed down a little, their breathing less erratic, minds clearer. Tim’s eyes are closed and so he shakes him gently, moves his hand up and down the soft planes of his body. “Come on, stay with me, we still have to go get cleaned up.” 

“No, I’m sleepy, leave me alone,” Tim moans, but he opens one eye first, then the other. Tries to suppress a smile and fails miserably. 

“No, come on, up you go,” Jon insists. He’s already half sitting on the bed, pulling Tim up by his hands, dragging him off the bed. “Now, quit whining, come on, I’ll wash your hair.”

“And you’ll tell me what you were thinking about just then?” Tim asks nonchalantly. He’s clearly coming back to himself, his usual cheek creeping its way back into his words. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Jon replies, turning away from Tim while he steps into the shower, making himself busy with adjusting the shower head and getting the water set up to the acceptable temperature. He doesn’t trust himself to keep emotions out of his expression just yet. 

“I know you, Jon,” Tim says, stepping in behind him, strong hands coming to rest on his bony hips, pulling them both close again. Jon relaxes against the big, sturdy body behind him. For a long second, they just stay under the stream like this, winding down, drinking in each other’s presence. 

“And I know when you’re somewhere else, you see,” he continues when Jon thinks he’s already dropped the subject. “And back then, well, you went somewhere. I’m just simply curious.” 

Jon reaches to the shelf and takes the honey-scented shampoo Tim loves, squeezes out a little on his hands and turns around, tapping at Tim’s shoulder, urging him to give him better access. He massages shampoo into his wet hair, longer and slower than necessary, fingernails gently dragging against his scalp. Tim leans back into the touch, almost purring with satisfaction. Jon knows there is no way he can evade the questions now.

“I was just— I was just doing what you asked me to do,” he says, hoping it’ll be enough. 

It isn’t. Tim can always see right through him. 

“It’s okay if you’re not ready to talk about it yet,” he replies and Jon can hear the sly smile in his voice as he rinses his hair off. “I’ll wait, beloved.”

“You’re an arsehole,” Jon tells him, aiming for annoyed and missing by a mile. 

“You love me, though,” Tim sing-songs, turning around, taking the shower head from Jon’s hands, putting it back on it’s holder. Then he reaches for the shampoo himself. 

“Yes, yes, tragically I do,” Jon replies and is rewarded by a quick wet kiss. He smiles into it, and then Tim’s soapy hands find their way to his hair, and he gives into the sensation of his strong fingers pulling at the long strands. He tries to relax into the feeling, willing his mind to stay off the uncomfortable topic, even if it’s just for now. “I really, really do, love.” 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! 
> 
> please leave kudos and comments if you liked it, it really means a lot to me <3 
> 
> you can find me on tumblr - hotjonrights x


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